What if
by Myno.1fan
Summary: What if Draco had been the one to save Hermione from the manor. Just a thought I had when watching the movie. Was going to be a full length but I decided against it. Not deathly Hallows compliant. 2 shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer : If you recognise it then it isn't mine.**

Bellatrix's cruel laughter rang out through the Malfoy's grand entrance hall. Hermione lay bound on the floor gasping for breath. She wasn't sure how much more her body could take. She wanted Ron, she wanted Harry, anyone to save her from this torment.

Bellatrix turned her wand on Hermione again and recommenced the torture. This time she gouged a single word into the upper part of Hermione's inner arm. It read "Mudblood". Hermione felt thoroughly beaten. Nobody would help her, nobody would save her.

She had known that being caught would mean the end of the search for the horcruxes, Voldemorts victory, and ultimately Harry's death. She never realised that it would mean endless torture for her though. She had thought Bellatrix would merely kill her on sight, for being muggle born and Harry's friend. A small part of her wished that she had gone with her parents to Australia and forgotten all about the Weasley's the Potter's and the Voldemort's of the world.

But she also knew that she had done the right thing. She was being tortured not just for Harry but also for every muggleborn witch or wizard who had ever discovered they weren't like the other muggles. She would die for them, and for what she knew deep down was right.

Hermione was close to death. She knew she would welcome it if it claimed her soon. She was bleeding and beaten and her nerves were still on fire from the cruciatus curse. Bellatrix was dancing around Hermione's body, aiming cutting hexes at her at random. Hermione was not going to be given a quick death.

"Well, well mudblood. You will not tell me what you took from my vault, so I suppose the only thing left for you is death. But the question is, will it be a quick or a slow death?"

"Please..." Hermione choked out, her vocal chords straining in her weakened state.

"Please what, mudblood?"

"Please... kill me...so... I don't have to... suffer through any more of your dancing."

Hermione heard a small snicker coming from the corner. She slowly turned her head and made eye contact with Draco Malfoy. He looked taken aback by her appearance. Hermione heard Bellatrix's cry of rage and felt another sharp stab in her ribs. Draco winced at seeing Hermione kicked like a dog.

"You filthy mudblood. You beg for an easy death, you beg for me to kill you because your blood isn't pure. Because you deserve to die. You have to die!"

Hermione was so tired, she ached everywhere. She could barely move and when she did it was not without intense pain. All she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and never wake up.

"Please...kill me... I deserve to die...I need to die..." Hermione panted out, she had clearly punctured a lung.

"Why? Why do you deserve to die?" Bellatrix asked eagerly.

"Because...I'm...because I'm... a...filthy...mudblood."

Bellatrix laughed with glee and began her sadistic little dance around Hermione's body. Hermione could feel the tears trickle down her face. Tears of relief. She would finally just get to rest. She would miss Harry and Ron and Ginny, but she just couldn't continue on.

"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix screeched.

Hermione could see the green light closing in on her and smiled. It was finally over. She could rest now. But then she felt a strange sensation around her navel and the green light was gone.

Hermione slipped in and out of consciousness. She could sense someone was near her, and she could almost hear the person muttering spells under their breath. Her body was beginning to ache less and every now and then, when she was awake enough, she could feel some of her wounds closing over. Someone was healing her.

Hermione struggled to think back to where she had been before she was lying on this wonderfully soft patch of ground. She remembered shooting a stinging hex at Harry, running for her life, Malfoy Manor and then...

"Am I dead?" she asked out loud.

She could feel the person near her jump at her question and they moved to kneel closer to her side. She struggled to open her eyes but they seemed to be glued shut from tears shed and blood spilled.

"Do you want to be?" A male voice asked her, and she struggled to recognise whose it was.

Hermione thought carefully before making her answer.

"If this is death... It's wonderful." She smiled.

"Look Granger, I need you to tell me what else hurts because I don't know if I got everything." He said, and suddenly Hermione thought she could recognise the voice.

Hermione struggled, and it took all of her will power, but she was finally able to peel her eyes open to meet the steely grey eyes scrutinising her.

"Malfoy?" She queried.

"Please Granger, just tell me where else it hurts so I can fix you." He said quickly, and Hermione could see the emotion clouding his otherwise clear grey eyes.

"What, so you can send me back to be tortured again?" Hermione asked, surprised at the venom in her voice.

"No... I would never... you have to understand."

"Understand what Malfoy? That you stood there and watched you sadistic aunt torture me. And then, when all I wanted was to die, you brought me back! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Hermione spat out, tears streaming down her face again.

"It killed me!" Malfoy bit out suddenly. "Watching her do that to you. It killed me. And seeing you give up. That hurt more. So please, just tell me where it hurts."

Hermione thought about his reply for a while. He seemed sincere, but then again so had Snape and where had that gotten them? She so wanted to believe him. This troubled her more. Why was she so ready to believe that he wanted to help her. Was it something she could see in his eyes.

"My arm... she carved that word into me." Hermione finally replied.

"I...I know." He stammered out nervously. "And I tried to heal it but there was something in the wound and... well see for yourself."

Hermione quickly dropped her gaze down to her upper arm and say, written clearly across her skin, the word "mudblood". He had clearly tried to heal it, as it was no longer a bleeding mess but a series of angry red scars. But Hermione knew it was one brand she would be stuck with forever.

"Look, Granger, we have to go. We have to get you somewhere safe." Malfoy began.

As he spoke Hermione heard a loud crack and suddenly the world was spinning again. Finally, her vision settled and she was facing Ron Weasley. He pulled her into a firm hug and from over his shoulder Hermione saw her first glimpse of shell cottage.

**Authors Notes:**

**Well I was just toying with this for a while after seeing the movie and thought, what if Draco had saved Hermione. Romance to come, after Hermione realises Ron isn't the man for her. Please R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If you recognise it, then it is not mine.**

**Well I have updated, but I'm still not entirely sure where this is going. I mean I know where I want it to go but i'm not sure if it will actually get there. And for some reason Hermione has turned into a depressed emotional bella clone. My bad.**

Hermione could hear them talking about her from her seat outside in the somewhat overgrown garden. She knew she probably shouldn't have been listening to what was supposed to be a private conversation. But if they had not wanted her to listen in then they could have closed the kitchen window instead of leaving it wide open so that their voices carried.

"She iz not okay, Ron." Fleur was saying, her French accent cutting like a knife.

"She has been through a lot!" Ron defended

"She still won't tell us how she got out of the Manor. Kreacher says he found her miles from the Manor." Harry added.

Hermione found their particular topic of conversation unsettling. She knew they would want to talk to her about what had happened. She knew they would want to know how she had narrowly escaped death. But somehow she just couldn't seem to find the words to say that it was Draco that had helped her. Their prejudices just ran too deep for them to accept that he had wanted to help her and her prejudices ran too deep for her to want to actively change their minds about him.

Too much had passed between the Gryffindor trio and their Slytherin counterparts. Too much hurt and too many bad feelings still lingered. And so Hermione had kept her mouth shut about how she had gotten out, and what exactly she had been through.

Hermione decided to take a short walk along the beach. The tide was out and the whole beach was covered with pungent smelling seaweed of various varieties. She picked up a stick and poked at some of the weed. It still remained the same stinking weed. She missed her wand, since Draco had been holding it whilst she was tortured. She missed the feel of it and how sometimes it just seemed to know the spell she was thinking of before she had even spoken the words. But she knew she had to come to terms with the loss, as her wand was probably long gone by now. Hermione dropped the stick and turned away from the seaweed. It hadn't even changed colour for her.

Hermione continued her walk up to the top of a nearby sand dune to Dobby's grave. She was sad that she hadn't been there for Harry through the whole unfortunate event. He had saved everyone in that Manor. Everyone except for Hermione. And she had never even had the chance to say goodbye.

Hermione would miss the little house elf. He had been the only one to embrace her ideas about S.P.E.W. He had been the only one to appreciate all of her knitted hats and hand sewn clothing. He had died a free elf, and with him died the last vestige of hope for the freedom of that race. It was a sad thought, so Hermione put it out of her mind and walked back down to the beach to watch the sunset.

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned and smiled half heartedly at Ron as he approached her from the house. She knew that he only wanted the best for her, but Hermione just couldn't take any more emotions right now. She was worn out and her emotions were worn thin.

"Look I know you don't want to talk but you have to tell us something." He tried, standing behind Hermione with his hands resting on her shoulders.

"Ron, I just can't talk about it." Hermione replied, not once looking at Ron.

She watched the sun set out over the horizon and sighed. He was so desperate to know about the things she had been through. He couldn't understand that those were memories she just didn't want to relive. She never wanted to think of Malfoy manor again.

"Can't you at least tell me how you got out? We were so worried about you and we sent Kreacher but he said you were already out. He had to do a locator spell to find you. You were miles away from anywhere. Did you aparate?"

"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Just leave me alone!"

Ron left Hermione standing on the beach. He was upset she knew, but he should have realised that she did not want to discuss sensitive subjects with him. There would have been a time when she did, before the war. But those feeling were cast aside for the greater good. Everything Hermione had been through had been for the greater good.

The sun had almost fully set and Hermione was still out there watching. There was something almost calming about the way it slowly dipped lower and lower beyond the horizon. Soon it would be gone altogether.

Hermione heard a strange sound from behind her. She turned and saw a large eagle-owl sitting on a piece or driftwood watching her. In its talons it held an awkwardly wrapped package. Hermione cautiously removed the package from the owl's leg and ripped the wrapping. Inside was a neatly folded note, her beaded bag and a wand. But not just any wand, her wand. It felt warm to the touch and as Hermione lovingly ran her fingers across the carvings she began to instantly feel a little better. Remembering the note, Hermione unfolded it and read the neat cursive words it contained.

_Hermione,_

_Hopefully you are okay and this package will reach you. If you are not okay I'm not sure what I will do. Please just let me know you are okay by sending Hector with a note. It doesn't even have to be a long one. It could literally be "I'm ok" written on a scrap of the Daily Prophet. But knowing you, it will be a ten foot essay defining every meaning of the word 'ok'._

_Please, Just let me know. I don't want to see you get hurt again. –D_

Hermione reread the note a few times before summoning some ink and a quill and scratching a quick message on the back. Hector held out his leg like a perfect gentleman owl and then he was off back to his owner.

Draco was worried when Hector arrived back carrying the note he had sent to Granger. But he smiled when he turned it over and read what she had quickly scrawled on the back.

_Define ok... – H_

**And that is all you get! Mwahahaha! sorry it's bad I have just worked a really long shift. Like 13 hour shift. And I'm TIRED!**


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